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t?t. CHAPTER XXV?Contlnned. Mrs. Hedges is a great admirer of Ralph Denham, and if she was the only one to consult, no obstacle would have Deen tnrown m me ui ulo uuiim with her daughter. It may surprise the reader to know that, in view of the incontrovertible knowledge these young ladies had of Captain Fox, that they should ever j think of going on board his ship. But they had a double object; at least 1 they reasoned;themselves into the belief that they had; and then they could not 1 even imagine the act of perfidy contem- ' plated by the pirate. Thev knew that the entertainment 1 was a part of Fox's 6cheme to keep the ' people of Sag Harbor blind to the ac- ' tual purpose, the capture of the Sea Hawk. Again, Lea Hedges and Ellen Condit , were devoured by an intense curiosity ?a curiosity which is said to be pecu- . liar to the sex-r-to see Ealph Denharn in his disguise, or rather to try and dis- * cover him in the disguise. Certainly the latter was not a good , motive for going on board the Wanderer; but the world might not be 60 1 pleasant a place to live in if sound rea ? 1 J l - ? I ? ~ ir? n fliof ^ fJULlb CUUIU UC j;ivou ivi c; v cx j c&jxxjg kuuv is done. Promptly at two o'clock the young 1 ladies, after hearing many sage injunc- j tion6 from their mothers, and dutifully promising to obey them, went ' down to the beach, where a long boat ' from the Wanderer was waiting to take 1 the visitors on board. They met there quite a number of young people, to whom an invitation 1 was extended, and not a few of the older men, among them Doctor Hedges, 1 who had been dazzled by' Fox's magnificence. Although every man on the ship had been working with all their might before 2 o'clock, they now appeared in holiday attire, and the vessel was gay with bunting. Awnings covered the quarter-deck, and the Wanderer's musicians played a welcome as the boat came alongside. Captain Fox and Frenauld were there In all the glory of their gorgeous uniforms, and ihoy made no effort to hide their delight as they helped Lea and Ellen on board. But while careful not to attract attention by their wandering glances, nor to seem indifferent to the courtesies of their entertainers, their hearts were with the blue jackets forward and amidships, and many a glance they cast In the hope of being able to distinguish Ralph Denham. A splendid collation was spread on the deck; and there were lavors in the Bhape of gems and flowers for all the young ladies. It was understood, of course, that there would be no dancing?there was no time for that; but there was much promenading, and, judging from the I laughter that occasionally accompanied It, much delightful conversation. Every now and then Fox or Frenauld would leave his guests, and go forward to issue a whispered order to a man in waiting, who would communicate it in a the same way to the sailors. L The crew no longer 6tood in listless d groups, but hurried back and forth, busying themselves with ropes and removing the bunting that was in their b way. t About half-past four a shower?a most fortunate one for Captain Fox's b Elans, came on. and he invited all into is luxurious cabin. I As Lea was passing down from tho quarter-deck, she laid ber hand on a c 6ailor's shoulder, who was there for the t purpose, and she heard KalphDenhr.m's I thrilling whisper: "My God! "Why are you here?" To those coming behind it looked as e If she had sipped; as it was she stag- f gered into the cablin, white as a ghost. "Frenauld, I will go down and hold the attention of the people. Send a v message to Hedges, tell him I have g changed my mind, and he must follow i me to Montauk In the morning, vo t not waste a second in getting the ship l under way. This is our chance." s "Aye, aye, sir," replied Frenauld. r Captain Fox spread before his visit- r ors his wealth of pictures and rare nnrina TT? ehnwAfl th?m the cream of the plunder of a score of gallant ships. ] He dazzled thein with strings of pearls. ] He flashed on them emeralds and dia- r monds till they forgot where they were. > Meanwhile the anchors wero being i hoisted and the sails let down. c Half-past live came, the turn of the tide. i The wind was In the west, and tho ] "Wanderer caught the breeze, and to the horror of the crowd on shore, watching t the preparations without seeing any- a thing of their friends, the stately ship, t like a great white bird, flew out of the ^arbor. e <? chapter xxvi. j doctor hedges has his eyes opened is * k very unpleasant vat. j ! Doctor Hedges was the Erst one In the party to discover the ship was in ( motiou. He did not suppose that C'apt. r Fox knew it, 60 he shouted out: j "Why, Captain, the ship is sailing j away!" , "I know it," said the Captain, with an ? easy manner and a smile, intended to ? calm tho anxiety on every face; "I wanted to close up the entertainment bv jrlvine you a little surprise. We I shall take a sail of a few miles, wind i and tide are favorable, and before dark i I will have you all safe at home. Don't fear." i Fox, who was in the companion-way, Waved his hand to his guests, and i hastened on deck. "Bravo, Frenauld!" he said to his I lieutenant. "Now get all the Sea Hawk i men between decks, order them down i for enrollment, and then see that they can't come up again till we let them." ] "All right, sir," replied Frenauld. 1 Tho bunting, awnirg, tables, and musicians had disappeared, and in every < way tho pleasure .ship at anchor wras transformed into a war ship under sail. < j The guests, headed by Dr. Hedges, ru&hed anxiously on deck, and the former, with every sign of great nervous- 1 cess, addressed Fox: "I and my friends, 1 Capt. Fox, are certainly very much indebted to you for your kindness, but If It. is all the same to you, we'd rather go l.aok. It is near dark, the tide is setting out, and the wind is from the I West." "Confound it! I never thought of that. How foolish of Frenauld to get 1 under way without letting mo know this." Fox said this aloud, so that all could bear, an I as ha hurried forward to 1 countermand the order to go back, as t ' they thought, not one or them, not evei Lea, but believed it was as he said. Capt. Fox did not come back fo twenty minutes or more. In the mean timo Rim hari irnnr> Hrnrn hln^ini red, promising a fine day fur the mor row. Dr. Hedges 6aw that the ship wai brought about, but the wind and tid< were against her, and a continuation o the attempt to get back into the harbo: must have resulted in sending the Wan derer ashore. "I fear," said Capt. Fox, coming bacl with an expression of sorrow on hii face, "we are in for it; we can't ge back to-night." "But what are we to do?" asked Dr, Hedges, now thoroughly alarmed. j. snail anchor unaer the ice or Gard' ner's Island, and bright and early to morrow morning I shall see that you al get home. I assure you, my friends, 1 deplore this very much, very much, in< deed. But there is an abundance o: cabin room for all; and we shall hav< supper, and then sleep till daylight Now, go to the cabin, or, if you woulc prefer, remain here till we come tc anchor." Th? nsnnlfi one and all preferred t< stay on deck. There was not the shadov of suspicion against their gallant host nevertheless there is a sense of persona! gratification in seeing with One's owr ayes that a desired thing is properlj lone. Sail was shortened at once; this was i cheerful sign, and a man amidships shouted the soundings as he heaved the lead. It was not yet quite dark when the Wanderer brought up under the southeastern point ot Gardner's Island. She :ame around with her head to the wind like a creature of reason, the anchors were let go and the sailors clambered iloft to furl sail. All this was very satisfactory, under rery unsatisfactory circumstances, tc ur. Hedges. He was something of 8 philosopher, and he wished to be thought a decided one; eo assuming a half-rollicking manner he joked with tiis daughter and the other young people about their mishap, and tried to add iO the humor of the situation by asking the young ladies how they would feel il Captain Kidd was to come along in the light and capture them all. Captain Fox, who overhead this renark, replied laughingly: "If Kidd succeeded, he would find a more precious cargo than ever fell to ;he lot of a pirate before. But if Miss Hedges and her companions fear that I ind the whole crew of the Wanderer :annot protect them for one night, ,hey should remember that we have on x>ard fifty gallant men from Ralph Denham's ship, the Sea Hawk. Surely ;hey will trust to them if it comes to a struggle." i "We are not at all afraid, Captain," said Doctor Hedges, who noticed the neaning glances which his daughter ind Ellen Condit exchanged. Excepting Lea and Ellon, who alone mew the oharacter of their host, and lence the great danger that menaced hem, the visitors showed a laudable lesire to make the best of a bad barlain, and Captain Fox successfully enjouraged this spirit. A sumptuous supper was served, and ifter it was over musical instruments vere brought out, with cards and all he games then in vogue. Between his tfforts to entertain his guests, Fox rould hurrj on deck to consult with ^renauld. "Well, Frenauld, how about the Sea lawk's men?" "Not the slightest trouble, Captain." "Where are they?" "On the lower deck." Any grumbling.' "None, sir. I've sent them supper ,nd their hammocks, telling them not o come on deck till morning, as no uty would be required of them." "Did they say anything?" "Nothing. Oh, there -will be no troude with them! Outside of sailing maters, they are as innocent as children." "Of course they are. Did you let them iave lights?" "Yes; they wanted to play cards, and could see no objection. "Of course not. Poor devils, if they an find any pleasure in their situaion lot them do so. By the way, remiuiu. "Yes, Captain." "We must land our guests bright and larly; and, let me sea?I will have use or the boats all night." "Going ashore?" "Yes; we carry too much treasure, and va might as well guard against contin;encies by concealing some of it on this sland. The men will be willing, and hey must help. They will think I am ncerested in then, and it will encourtge them. You will see me again after ny visitors are .stowed away for the light." "Very well, sir." Frenauld wen': about his business and fox went down to the cabin. Aided by i)on, he showed the people their stateooms, all little gems of places; and so veil W8s the Wanderer provided in this ocnof't that, ho prmld hftVfl fmenmmo lated without crowding as many more. The most anxious man on hoard the Wanderer that night was Captain Ralph !)enham. Ordinarily, his position vould net have been an enviable one; he coming of Lea and Ellen added an idditional load to the great responsljility he had assumed. The men from the Sea Hawk were instructed to offer no objections to any >rdev that might be given, but to follow heir Captain's example without atracting too much attention to him by heir acts. When ordered to go to the lower deck, Captain Denham knew exactly what it neant, though he did not expect that ?\>x would aim to render them poweress so soon, and then the position presented any observation of the pirate's iction, which it was at this time necessary to know. The lower deck on which they found themselves had hooks for hammocks, showing that It had been designed or used by sailors as a sleeping place. The place was limited, very close, ind filled with that odor of bilge watei which is intolerable to anyone but a 3ailor. Directly back of this place was the front partition separating it from the store room and the quarters of tho subordinate officers. It was Captain Denham who asked for lights that the men might play cards till nine o'ciock. Tho request was granted, and three ir four parties, arranged by Captaic Denham, sat down to play where the> sould be seen by any one coming suddenly in. The better to carry out the impression of perfect contentment with theli surroundings, as well as to obstruct the view, all the hammocks were strung. Captain Denham had been aboard the Adventure Galley after Colonel Livingston lltted her out in New York d few years before, and hence he was familiar with her construction, excepting that the cabin had been very much enlarged. Calling a few of the men about him, and sitting in tho middle of the . oor, where no eavesdropper, if Uiere were any, could overhear them, he said, in a whisDer: ' "My lads, It is Kidd's intention to keep us down here. Tho sailors nodded their heads vigorously to indicate that thoy understood AL|- wall a a Pftnfftln k' 1H tLllb Vtfiy n Cli, oo nvn uu v?.rv? as they all now called Fox, did. "It won't do to be caught napping 1 Two strong men can prevent our leaving here by the way we came." r The sailors nodded with equal vigoi again, and kept longer at It ? "So we must make a way for ourselves " that will leud to the deck, when bj morning we hear the signal gun from 9 the Sea Hawk." J "I think, Captain," said one of the ' men, "that we can cut through the bulkr head with our knives. One of the planks I tried a bit ago cuts like olc cheese, and I made a hole and saw some c light through it." * "Where?" asked Captain Denham, riS' ing suddenly. The sailor led him over to the bulkhead, drew out a wooden plug iae hac fitted to a hole, and told him to look in, The Captain did look in and the mer were surprises that he should look ec ^ long; but the Captain had good reasont I fnr if Ha Raw inside a little eubbv? hole of a room, -with a candle burning, f and a boy, whom he recognized as Don, the cabin boy, on his knees beside a little bunk. Waiting till the boy rose, the Captain put his mouth to the aper;ure anc. whispered "Don, don't be frightened; we are the men from the Sea Hawk," An intelligent light flashed over Don's face and he looked to discover the ex? act place from which the sound came; but first he secured his own door, to prevent ony one's coming in en him unexpectedly. CapL Denham, seeing the boy's oblAftt. drew his dirk, and pushed it intc the hole, and the light flashing on th< I blade, Don approached the place, and putting his lips to the opening he whis* | pered: 1 "I've just been praying for you and [ the mother at home." ' "Brave boy," replied Capt. Denham: "you have proved yourself our friend.' "Ana I am your friend," said t!ae lad 1 "Can you help remove one of th? i planks between here and where you i are? "We are fastened in, but at the k proper time we want to be able to gei t on deck." "I can and will help you. Go bacb \ and wait," replied Don. ! Capt. Denham and his men went ' back, and soon after they heard a low | grating 6ound, like that made by the gnawing of a rat. This was going on when a burly 6ailor, as warrant officer, to give the man-of-war rank, one of the Wanderer's 1 crew, came into the place occupied by 1 Capt. Denham and his men, and in a hoarse voice called out: "Come, my ' lads, it is 9 o'clock; out lights, and turn in." A cheery "Aye, aye" from the Sea Hawk men told that they had heard the order, and the alacrity with which they 1 swung into their hammocks, after putting out their lights, showed how willingly they obeyed it. Satisfied with this, the man, who carried a lantern, gave it a final flash over the line of hammocks, and withdrew with a heavy 6tep. [to be continued.] The Biggest Sailing Craft. The largest sailing craft in existence is the Potosi, now engaged in the nitrate trade with the west coast of South America. She was bnilt by F. Laeisz of Hamburg, in 1895. Hei principal dimensions are: Length, 362 feet; breadth, 49? feet; depth, 31* feet; gross register, 2995 tons, and net register, 3789 tons. She has a dead weight carrying capacity of 6150 tons, and besides being the largest sailing ship in existence, she also possesses the distinction of being the only live-masted one, with the exception of the La Frauce of Dunkirk, which is of considerably smaller di mensions. During her :arst voyage to Iquique, a distance of 11,000 miles was covered in seventy-two days, a re markablv fast trip. The largest vessel engaged in trade on the American coast in the Governor Ames, a five-masted wooden echooner trading regularly between Newport News and Providence, R. I. She was built at Waldoboro, Mo., in 1888, by Levitt Sfcorer and her principal dimensions are: Length, 345 feet 5 inches; beam, 21 feet2 inches; depth, 21 feet 2 inches, and her net tonnage is 1,689.84. Captain C. A. Davis is the master and ownes, and her hailing port is Providence. She is one ot' a fleet of schooners engaged in carrying the celebrated New JRiver coal from Newport News to Providence, and carries about 3000 tons on a draught of 22 feet. She is the only five-masted schooner on this coast, the largest in existence, and she has a sail area of about 7000 square yarda. Diseases of (Jems. The Philadelphia Times is authority for the statement that gems are afflicted with diseases jusi; as individuals. Among the infirmities to whioh pre cious stones are liable, i&ya the Times, is one common to all stones, that of fading, or losing color, when long exposed to the light. The emerald, the sapphire, and the ruby snffer the least, their colors being as nearly permanent as colors can be, yet experiments made a few years ago in Paris and Berlin to determine the deteriora tion of colored gems through exposure showed that even those suffered, a ruby which has lain for two years in a show window being perceptibly lighter in tint than its original mate, which was kept in the darkness. The causes of the changes are not very clear, even to expert chemists, but it is evident that the action of the light on the coloring matter of the gem effects a deterioration, slow but exceedingly sure. ' In the case of the garnet and topaz the change is more rapid than in that i of the rnby and eapphire. Opals that have euccesEfully passed the ordeals of ' grinding, polishing and setting do not , often crack afterward, but it is best , not to expose them to even the moderate heat involved by the wearer sitting in front of an open fire, for ths opal is composed principally of silicic 1 acid, with from five to thirteen per cent, of water, a combination which ( renders them very treacherous objects. r The idea that they are otherwise un, fortunate in the sense that they bring disaster to the wearer may be dismissed as superstitious. i Left His Card. J Voltaire and Piron were enemies. To their embarrassment they met one i day at the country house of a friend. . Piron got up early, went to Voltaire's i door and wrote upon it the wcrd "Rogue." At breakfast Voltaire smilingly said to him: "I thank you for showing your intorest in my wel1 fare by leaving your card at my door 1 J this morning." . I mit t/^t/\tto run a r\r\Tn iiJCjJLJLlllUUO JtlUAJWLim 0 for a henrt of cal.na repose Amid th? wtrld'i loud roar, A life that Jiko a ri?er floivs Along a peaceful lhore. Come Holy Spirit, still my heart With gentleness diviue: Indwelling peace thou cr.n?t impart, O, make that blessing mine. Above the scenes of storm and strife There speads a region fair ; Give me to live that higher life, And breathe that heavenly air. BLESSINGS IN DISCiriSE. There is no doubt that cvi-ry hard thing that God permits to come into our life has a blessing wrapped up in it. The things which appear before us as discouragements prove to be helps toward nobler attainments A Christian physician, whose career has been full nf fnirh nnrl nnhlft minijtrv civfifi this ' experience: He was a pcor boy, and a 1 cripple. One day be was watching .some 1 other boys on the ball field. They were ! active, strong, and wealthy As he looked i on. his heart grew bitter with envy. A ( young man who stood beside him noteil the discontent on his face and said to him,"You [ wish you were in those boys'place, don't you? "'Yes, I do," was the answer. "I reckon God gave them msney, education and hetvlth," continued the young mar, "to help them to be of some account in the world. Did it never strike you," he continued, after a moment's pause, "that He gave you your lame leg for the jame reason ?to make ? man of you?" The boy gave no answer and turned away. He was angry, but he did not forget the words. His crippled leg God's gift! To teach him patience, courage, perseverance ! 1 To make a man of hiin ! He thought of the words till tie saw uieir meaning, xney kindled hope and cheer, and he determined to conquer hi6 hindrance. He grew heroic. He soon learned that what was true of his lame leg was true also of all the difficulties, hindrances, and hard conditions of his life ?they were all God's gifts to him to help him to be of some account in the world?to make a man of him.?J. R. Miller, D. D., in ' Things to Live For." PERFECTION THROUGH SORROW. Great sorrows never leave us what we were before. None can pass under that hammer and remain the same. After a great baptism of sorrow we must be different: but what we should pray and strive for is that we may emerge from it better, richer, more faithfnl, more helpful, more filled with a heartfelt delight in God's will, more able to make a true answer to God's surprises and wonders of love. There arc periods in lif3, years and years, when no great trouble visits us. Then the storms of sorrow fall, and we are apt to say,I have passed through nnrl T mav hone for an immunity for the future. It is not so. The troubles may come buck, they may come back again worse. As has been said, our Pharaohs are seldom drowned in the lied sea, and we do not often behold their corpses stretched upon the sand. The bitterness of death may return. What then? At the very worst the memory of the past will help us. We shall retrace the slow, difficult war to peaee; our trust in God will be deepened, and we shall realize that, after all, the range of sins and sorrows is limited, though the sea of troubles inay roll its white crested billows as far asthe horizon. What are truly numberless are God's mercies. What.is truly infinite is God's love?Robertson Nicoll. A PRAYER OF fiRATITCDE. We lift up our hearts to thee, 0 God, in grateful* remembernnce of the gifts and blessings which have crowned our days. When our hearts have forgotten thanksgiving, thou hast not ceased from help. Although we have sinned, thou hast'still maintained thy loving kindness. Our trials have been less than our desert, our joys have been witness ever of thy merciful compassion. We bless thee for the gift of life, the love of friends, the ties of kindred, the joys of home. We praise thee for opportunities of knowledge, for innocent enjoyment and helpful service. Thou hast comforted us in sorrow and upheld us in the time of doubt anil fear. Food and raiment and shelter are from thee, and thou givest us power to over come temptation. Love is thy gift, and faith and hope of better days to come ; and thy Eresence is our continual delight. Blfssed e thou. 0 God, with honor and thanksgiving, through Jesus Christ our Lord ! Amen. DO NOT WORRY. The habit of looking on the bright side of things is a good one. and is worth a great (leal to eac-n one who cultivates?. certainly one should not cultivate the habit of looking on the dark side, especially when he must draw on his forebodings and apprehensions for a vision of that dark side, and thus see not only what does not exist, but what may never exist. God promises grace for each time of need, but not for each time of worry and anxiety. He promises to be with His people when thej pass through the fire, but He does not promise to extinguish the (Ire before it has been lighted. He says that when His people pass through the. waters they shall not overflow them, and we ought to be satisfied with that. If we trust in God. the disasters we dread most will never come, or, if they do. He will change the disaster into benediction.?Herald and Presbyter. the true bios of foiioiveness. The true sign of forgiveness is not some mysterious signal waved from the sky ; not some obscure emotion hunted oul; in your heart; not some stray text culled out of your I5ible ; certainly not some word of mortal nriest tellinc you that your satisfaction is complete. The soul full of responsive love to Christ anil ready, longing, hungry to serve him is its own sign of forgiveness. Must there not be sorrow for sin ? Must there not be resolution of amendment ? .Surely there must, but it is nut sorrow for sin for the sake of the sorrowfulness that Jesus ever wants. He wants sorrow for sin only that it may bring escape from sin I think that with all wo know of the divine heart of Jesus he would far rather see a soul trust him too much, if that is possible, than trust too little,which we know is possible enough. ?Phillips Brooks. HE GAVE US THE BEST. 0 my soul, let thine aspirations go up more and more after thy heavenly inheritance! "The Lord is the portion of mine inheritance and my exceeding great reward." What more than this can the compassionate love of God bestow? He gives us life. Ho gives us his only Son. Ho gives us his very self. And had lie known of anything greater in heaven, or in earth, he would have given that, too. In God we live, we are the temple of God. we possess God here, indeed, in spirit and in mystery, but there in deed and in truth. There our hopes will become Missful reality. There we shall not simply sojourn, but we shall dwell in a secure aliode forever and ever.?Gerhard. Still Jesus joins himself to us: still he walks with us ; still he instructs us. speaking to us by his word, his provideiices, his Spirit ; still he seeks to enter into our sorrows and trials, and lo console and cheer us. But we know him not. Our eyes are holden by unbelief. Wo do not pres> him to aliide with us. Hence he is grieved, and we are left alone in the night.?iliehard Fuller. "Opportunity comes." said the old proverb, "with feet of wool, treading so t." You must have the instinct of an artist for the approaches of this good genius. You must listen for it.?lie v. Samuel Johnson. ACT OF A SOMNAMBULIST. Wisconsin Girl Ci ? OIT Her Loiir and ICenutilul Httlr. Miss Lulu Boeder, of Janosville, Wis., had i line head of liar, twenty-seven inchos long, of which she w is very proud. When jho ^ot up one morn ig recantiy sin was astonished to Hud that in the night she had ieon relieved ot her tresses. Thoy were cut jff close to her head. When tho family went down sttirs the mystery was solved. Lying on the (loor of tho sitting room was tho hair, vrlth the Iihoars lying on top. Miss Beeder h id been walking in her sleep, and had cut off her own oair without knowing it. ) I \ SABBATH SCHOOL INTERNATIONAL LESSON FOP APRIL 4. Lesson Text: "Peter Working Miracles," Acts ix., 32-43?Golden Text: Acts ix., 34? Commentary. 32. "And it came to puss as Peter passed throughout all quarters."he came down also to the saints which dwelt at Lydda." The last we heard of Peter be was with JohD preaching the word of the Lord as they returned from Samaria to Jerusalem, having witnessed the great work of the Lord through Philip in Samaria (chapter viii., 25). In Jerusalem the number of disciples multiplied greatly, and a great company oi the priests believed (chapter viM 7). In all the land the churohes had rest, and wore being built up, and were multiplying, walking in the fear of the Lord and in the comfort of the Holy Ghost (chapter ix., 31). Peter seems to be itinerating a little and helping the saints here and there. Notice this name ' saints." We are not called to be saints, but we are called 9?ints (Bom. i., 7, omitting the italics; also I Cor. i., 2) by virtue of our oneness with Christ. Every beltever is a saint. 33. "And there he found a certain man named iEnas, which had kept his bed eight years and was sick of the palsy." We would infer that Jlnas was one of the saints to' whom Peter came, and finding him in this hoinip.ca condition he had comoassion upon him. Possibly 2Enus and others had been praying that the Lord would send some one that way through whom health might come, remembering Math, xviii., 10. How very suggestive of the utter helplessness of the sinner is the condition of this paralytic who had been eight years in bed. 34. "And Peter ?aid unto him, JEnas. Jesus Christ maketh tn?e whole. Arise ana make thy bed. And he arose immediately." Peter was greatly used of the Bbrd in the healing of the body as well as of the soul. Bee chapters iii., 6, 7; v., 15,16. It would seem that some were healed even by the shadow of Peter falling upon them. 35. "And all that dwelt at Lydda and SaroD saw Him. and turn3d to the Lord." God saw that this showing forth of His power through Peter would be the means oi many turning to Him. He does not heal all who are sick, but to this day He does, both with and without medicine, heal many who I are sick. He knows whether it is best for us to abide here or bo with Him at home, and whether, abiding here, it is best for us to be sick or well. The great thing is to glorify ' God that people may turn to Him (Phil, i., 20; John xviL, 4). 36. "Now, there was at Joppa a certain j disciple named Tabitha, which by interpretation is called Dorcas. This woman was full of good works and alms deeds which she did." She was a Christian indeed, one of the kind that is missed when she goes away. All who truly receive Christ are saved (John i., 12). Disciples are'thosewho live upon His word and follow Him fully at any cost (Luke xvi., 26, 27). Those who are both of these and also full of good works and kindness to the poor must come sped- \ ally near to the heart of Christ, for He, being full of the Spirit, went about doing good and healing the oppressed. 37. "And it came to pass in those days that she was sick and died, whom, when they had washed, they laid her in an upper chamber." Her workdays over, she is absent from her body and present with the Lord; she has departed to be with Christ, which is far better (Phil, i., 21, 23; II Cor. v., 8); she has trulj experienced a great gain. We are not told if her sickness was long nor if she suffered much, but sho has gone from them, and all they have of her is the body in which she lived and wrought among them. No, thej have nlso her good works and blessed memories of her. 38. "They s?nt unto him two men, desiring him that he would not delay to come to them." Lydda was not far from Joppa, and the disciples, hearing that Peter was there, sent thus urgently for him, for they longed to have Dorcas with them once more. This is the natural longing of the heart to keep our loved ones with us even though we know that their departure is their gain. 39. "All the widows stood by him weepinj? and shewing the coats and garments which Dorcas made while she was with them." Fondly remembered bp what she had done, they make us think of the words: "Blessed are the dead which die In the Lord from henceforth. Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may re9t from their labor?, and their works to follow them" (Rev. xiv., 18). 40. "She opened her eyes, and when she saw Peter she sat up." Many miracles of healing hud been wrought through Peter, but this is his first case of resurrection from the dead. Alone with the dead body, tie poured out his soul to God, doubtless pleading tho promises of God, the commission in Math, x., 8, the assurance of John xiv., 12, and withal askine in complete submission to the will of God ("John xiv., 13, 14; I John v., 14, 15). He must have received some assurance that his request was granted, for he turned to the body and said, "fabitha, arise." And she sat up, looking upon him. 41. And he gave her his hand and lifted her up, and when he had" called the saints and widows presented her alivo." There are three resurrections of the dead in the Old Testament, three in the life of Christ, and this is the flrst of three after his ascension (Acts xiv., 19, 20; xx., 12). We have no rtcord of any utterances of those who had been deed and had been brought back to this world. Paul says it was not possible for him to utter what he heard in paradise (II Cor. ?* + frs Xlt., i), UOUDIiess WUC11 uu nw aivuw >? death ?t Lystra. 42. "And it was known throughout nil Joppa, and miiny believod in the Lord." The resurrection of Lazarus led to many believing on Jesus (John xll., 11), and hero is another case in which the Lord saw that a resurrection would be the means of leading many to Him. It does not seem as if Dorcas would have been sent from paradise back to earth without her consent. She may have been informed of the results that would follow. and for the sake of winning these souls to Christ for Christ's sake she doubtless camc back cheerfully tor His pleasure. We do not know of any results from the resurrection of the-many who rose when Christ did (Math, xxvii,, 52. 53), but there was a reason for their resurrection, and no doubt the result which God intended. I think they went with Christ to glory, while the nine previously referred to probably died again. 43. "And it came to pass that he tarried many days in Joppa with one Simon, a tan" A?"i i"> wa toUI find him in our next lesson. Preaching the gospel, healing the sick, raising tho dead or just tarrying with Simon, he Is nboul his Mnster's business and doing as occasion serves him, knowing that God is with him (I Sam. x., 7).?Lesson Helper. COURSE OF LOST RIVER. A. Scientific 1'roblein Apparently Solved by a Flood. For many years the invisible course of the famous Lost llivjr, which suddenly sinks J near tho town of Orleans, Iud., has incited scientific inquiry. No trace of this underground river was over discovered until since the recent heavy rains. It is now believed that Lost lliver runs directly under tho town of Orleans. This belief is mainly based upon the fact that during tho recent flood, tho water burst forth Irom what was supposed to be a small uave in such volumes that the town was flooded. The water has now ceased (o flow from tho jave, but any one standing near tho entrance can hear the rushing of tho torrent apparently hundreds of feet below. When borings were made for gas somo /ears ago at Orleans, water pushed forth at :he depth of 500 feet with terrific force. NATURE'S COLORS PHOTOGRAPHED. four BathH Necessary for the Prooer Development or the Negative. i Consul General Mason, at Frankfork, reports to our State Department that the scl- J entiflo sensation of the moment in Europe is I a now and apparently successlul inathod of reproducing in photography by chemical means the colors of nature. The process, which is a French one and a secret one at prosent, controlled by a powerful financial organization, depends ou the I development of a negative In four baths, one i colorless and the other rod, blue and green, respectively. The miracle appears in the faot that the treament of the negative plate and positlvo print by a limpid liquid imparts to tho latter tho occult instinct of selective absorption? in other words, tho power to absorb and assimilate from soiutious of the primary colors tho exact quantity and proportion of each tint that Is required to produce all the oolara . . - v.... . . v -.?;paH3H a . . ' ' ' ' r < .JSfr . ' . . ; TEMPERANCE. ot;b jot and oub duty. A pledge we sign with joy. Up, every girl and boy, To fight the drink; Let each one find his place. Ann men irom uoa seen grace i To set through life the fase Against the drink. Would we our country save? We must be true and brave, < And steadfast stand; Have faith in God and pray, . Work, vote, and haste tne daj That from the demon's sway Shall free our land. ?Albert G. Lawson, D. D., in Temperance Banner. . * A SON'S PBOailBE. | The following true incident is from the < T7nn?i TT A TU1./1 lips Ui V-/UpitlllJ XiOUIjr JLL. AJC1T KJL IUO 0. una. Regiment of New Hampshire Volunteers: "We were lying on Morris Island, that God-forsaken place, digging trenches, watching, fighting, taking our chances from bullets, shells and fever, but our men were patient and brave, heroes, every one of them, with the granite of their hills in their blood. To show you what stuff they were made of, I will tell you of one of the boys, a member of my company. "One day this fellow, not more than nineteen years old, was brought in from the picket line badly wounded. Apuinful surgical operation was necessary. The surgeon examined him and prepared a glass of brandy, which he offered him. He refused to drink It. The surgeon appealed to me, saying: 'He has lost much Diood, and his vitality is low. It he does not take this, I can not answer for his life.' I said, 'Frank, to ODlifiie mo yon will drink this brandy.' "He said. 'Captain, I would do almost anything to oblige you, but not this.' " 'Frank, you have never disobeyed me. You must not now. I command you to drink this.' "He looked up at me, his blue eyes dim with the anzuish he endured, and replied, 'Captain, when you command mo to go to | the cannon's mouth I will do it if I can, but thii? I will ngt do.' "I wiis getting excited, for 1 loved thisbov ae if he had been my brother, aiid (ears I could not restrain began to flow. I cried: 'Why do you pain me so? You are putting i your life in peril. You have no right to do f it. Drink this for yonr mother's sake.' ''He trembled, and tears his agony had not wrung from him came to his eyes as he re- 1 plied: 'Captain, it is for my mother's sake i that I will not drink this brandy. My father ( died a drunkard, and she has told me I may have inherited this terrible appetite, and I 1 promised her never to taste the deadly poi- I son that made her a widow and me an or- | phan. If I die tell her I kept my promise.' " By that time we were both crying like girls. "Did he die?" I cried. "Oh, no; he made a rapid recovery. From j that time my faith in brandy has been growing less." HOW TO BENEFIT A DBIJfKING MAN. 1 There is only one way to do it?take away ' the drink. It will not benefit him to give him money, for he will spend it for strong drink. The more money he has the more liquor he can buy. Money helps him downward. Give money to his family and he has so much more to Dav to the saloon. Even give them bread and clothing and he has less of these articles to purchase, and conse- I quently more money with which to buy | whisky. Give him work and his wages go to the saloon. Give him a good position In | a shop or store and he barters It for rum. I Give nim personal confidence and he betrays i it. Give him time and he wastes it. Give ( him friends and he goes back on them. Give him credit and he abuses it. Give him a 1 holiday and he uses it for revelry and shame. Give him eight hours instead of ten for a j day's labor and he has two hours more for , debauch in the saloon. But give him total abstinence and he is saved. This will benefit him and this alone. It will benefit his i family, too. Just in proportion as it benefits him will his family be benefited. They thrive as he thrives; both rise together. Abstinence lifts them all into a higher and nobler life, as intemperance crowds them into degradation and woe.?Sacred Heart Review. TEMPERANCE IN BAILBOA.D SEBVICE. The extent to which the temperance agitntion has prevailed in railroad service is shown by the comments of railroad managers on a pending bill in the Minnesota Legislature. The bill, if enacted, would render a railroad company liable to a fine if it did not discharge an employe in the train department who was known to have been int:oci- I cated. The only objection offered to the bill Dy tDe rauroaa omcers was mat it wua tsuperflous. Tne Milwaukee and St. Paul Railroad has a rule which Is more stringent than the proposed law. It reads: "The use of intoxicating drinks has proved a most fruitful source of trouble to railways as well as to individuals. The company will exercise the most rigid scrutiny in reference to the habits of employes in this respect, and any employe who has been dismissed on this account will not be re-employed. Drinking when on duty or frequenting saloons will not be tolerated, and preference will be given to those who do not drink at all." TO BE PROUD OF. "How does it taste, I wonder?" said Jamie, as he saw Patriok Flynn take a glass of steaming punch at the bar of a restauraut. "Did you ever taste strong drink, James'/"' said a handsome old man standing by. "Never," said Jamos. "I wonder if it is good?" "I cannot tell you how it tastes,,' said Mr. I Landers. "I am sixty years old, and have i never tasted it in my life, and 1 am proud to ( say it. I see what it does. It tas cheated poor Flynn out of his snug little home. It ' has clothed his poor wire ana cnnaren in rags and made him cross and quarrelsome. It is | liqui J Are. and theft. and|poison. I don't want to know how it tastes." "Neither do I," said James "Thank yon, 1 Mr. Landers, for what you have said- When I am a man sixty years old, I, too, wiil have | it to say, 'I never tasted etrong drink in my life.' "?Ram's Horn. I WATER THE BETTER REMEDY. Dr. James R. Nichols says: "Rum or alcohol as an embrocation was lormerly regarded as of the highest efficiency: but it is now known that hot or cold water is a much i better application for inflamed surfaces. - aL. U., I The external use ot aiconoi upon iut> uuuiuu body under any conditions of disease Is prac- I tically useless. It tnay serve to cool inflamed ( parts by rapid evaporation, but warm water meets the same end, and more effectively. ' Alcohol in the form of gin, brandy, whisky or wines may be banished from families as a , domestic remedy without risk to the welfare of a siugla member, of any age, sex or con- < dition." ] i ALCOHOL 8 INFLUENCE OK CHILDREN. i M. Lancereaux is now engaged in demon- ' strating the influence of alcohol on children. 1 On growing children its effects are parti- 3 cularly lamentable. M. Lancereaux has j closely studied two young girls from thirteen , to fourteen, born of alcoholic parents, and accustomed to drink a liter and n half of wine per day since the ace of three years. , They are victims to visceral lesions typical of alcoholism, and present all the sinus of J well marked "infantilism." These cases con- 1 firm the results of experiments on animals. TEMPERANCE NEWS AND NOTES. "There's mauy a slip 'twixt the cup and tho lip," but the worst slip is apt to happen after the cup and lip have met and parted. A tablespoonfuI of alcohol diluted, taken in the twenty-four hours, causes 4300 extra heart beats.nnd in secondary effect narcotizes the recuperative forces. A prominent English physician of lone experience with drunkards says that he can recall huudreds of recoveries atnou?: men, but only live among women. The Denmark Temperance Society has a membership of 40,000 member*, and receives a government subsidy of $1500 per year. Afier this year it is to receive ?2000 per i I year. The drunken father brings his wife and children to poverty, he disgraces them, he hinders them from attending church and school;ina word, pauperism, ignorance and vice are tho results of drunkenness in tho father of a family. The Daily Mail, of London, states that for , the llrst three offenses of drunkenness in Turkey tho offender is sentenced to the bastinado, but thereafter ho is considered a "privileged'' or "imperial" drunkard. When such a one is arrested, he has only to give his name and address, whereupon he is taken home and a bill for services sent him the next day. 1 HOUSEHOLD MATTERS. ,^B| PHIIHATTR SHORTCAKE. Make a rich biBcait crust. Whe^^H baked split; batter and place betwee^H| the layers and on top a sauce made iflH follows: Two oupfuls of rhubarti^^H Btewed and sweetened, to whioh h&JHfl been added, just before removing^! from the stove, one oupful of ohopped V dates. This filling may be used for one-crust pies, but should be cooled before putting in the crust and # meringue spread on the top. _______ \ I HOW TO MEND GLOVES. If you wish to mend your gloves neatly turn them inside out and sew them over and over with fine cotton thread. Silk seems to cut the kid. If there is a tear, set a piece of kid un> =4 it A aftAnMl^ nifh a fonT afi^VlOS if you have not the kid of the right jolor, use a bit of ribbon or silk. Save the best part of the old pair to mend the new. Court plaster will ^ mend a break nicely, bat always stif-, , [ens the kid. FOB HEAVY "WAHHTNO. , Every honsekeeper should have borax toap in the house. There is nothing better with which to wash flannels and blankets. To make it take two pounds of good white soap, three ounces of borax and two quarts Df water. Shave the soap and put its in a porcelain kettle with the borax \ and water. Place on the fire and stir frequently until the sdap and water are dissolved and combined. Pour the hot mixture into a olean batter tab, and when cold cover. TO CLEAN BBASS AND COPPEH. ^ nn *V?n4- V* rt O VlOOn lortfltlflTOrl JLJL ODO IIUBII uug wua mwv^uvavm should never be treated with aoid ojt^m any cleaning paste, bat qaiekly trashed in warm ends and wiped per- V fectly dry. Botten stone mpde into a 1 paste with kerosene is excellent for ' oleaning brass. Bab on briskly with ] & woolen cloth, or a line brash if the Barfaces are roagh, wash oft with hot suds, wipe dry aad polish with chamois or a dry woolen cloth. If this past^v fails, use a strong solution of oxalioW^ water (made by dissolving the crystals in cold soft water), wash oft with snds and polish. A eolation of oxahc acid jB is also excellent for oleamng copper - V or stained china or porcelain. ?Kath- * srine B. Johnson. . -.49 V BAKING HINTS. If you do not want your cake to V stiok to the j.an after it is baked, buttor the dish, or pan, then throw in a bandful of sifted dour, shake the pan kill the flour adheres to the butter, then turn the pan bottom up and beat It so as to remove all the flour that does not adhere. Do not allow the cake to remain in the pan, after it is done, for more than two minutes. The whites of eggs beaten to a stiff froth, with three teaspoonfuls of sugar to each egg, and a teaspoonful of breakfast cocoa, mixed with both, makes a good filling for layer cakes, when you do riot have plenty of sweet cream; but do not try to make frosting of an egg that has been chilled, as , ' it will not beat up nicely. Do all know that a teaspoonful 'of mustard put into a pot of beans th8<Q> ' j are ready for the oven, gives them a*lj fine flavor? Try it. This quantity is H fnf a tVn-aa.nnnrt. haltinn'. 1 r?- BOILED MUTTON. To boil a leg of mutton select a fine - ; fresh leg whioh is very fat Have the bone end trimmed olosely to the flesh. Put the joint in a large kettle, cover it with cold water. Adda tablespoon* fol of salt and a small red pepper. Stand the kettle on a slow Are, and j when the scam begins to rise on the | water skim it off carefully, leaving not even a fleck. After it begins to boil cook the mutton slowly for two hours. If you like it well done, boil t it two and a half hours. 'Serve on a targe hot platter. Surround the joint with young carrots, boiled, and serve it with caper sauce, which is a rich, thick cream sauce to vhich capers have been added. Do not be skimp* Ing with the capers, put plenty ofv them in the sauce, as well as plenty of the vinegar in which they are preserved. Boiled turnips, cut in slices or in dice shaped pieces, and cream spinach are in order as an accompaniment to boiled mutton. Boiled potatoes, with a strip of their peels oat * 1 ' J aIiwowo VlA on nan way rouuu, nuuuiu ain?;? uv 9erved with a boiled leg of mutton. The water in which a leg of mutton has been boiled should always be saved to make mutton broth for dinner the noxt day. HOUSEHOLD HINTS. To remove the smell of new paint, lay a banch of hay in the room and * t. sprinkle it witn a nine vmuuus w. jm lime; close the room for several honrs, ^ and when it is again opened the smell J of paint will all be gone. The railing of banisters is a part of 1 the house woodwork that requires fre- J [jaent attention. This tail should first be wiped oft with a oloth wrung from i lukewarm soapsuds and wiped dry. Mix two parts of linseed oil with one part of turpentine; apply this to the railing by putting a little on a flannel md rubbing the wood; then polish it with a fresh flaDnel. To fry bacon so that it is crisp and delicate, fry it over a hot firo, 'in & pan 60 large that the slices do not tonch ; turn the slices every minute or two till tbey are nicely browned on both sides, then take out upon coarse wrapping paper and place in the ovon a minute (still on the paper). Thifl makes them crisp and nice. Never serve bacon in its own grease. If you wish to be sure the meringue you are going to put on top of your lemon pie or your pudding will not fall, be particular to beat in the sugar thoroughly. Many think that if the egg is beaten to a htiff froth it is sufficient to just stir in the sugar. Try giviog it a thorough beating after the sugar is in, and convince yourself "what's the matter with the frosting." Make your kitchen aprons with a full ruffle across the bottom. Thi*. will stand out from your dress skirt and catch whatever you may drop or spill, thus protecting the dress skirt. The front of a dress skirt is often soiled around the bottom because the apron does not quite cover it, or is drawn too tightly across it, but thie ruffle will effectually prevent any soiling of the dress.